


but for today

by whataboutateakettle



Category: Crashing (UK TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-19 11:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10639254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whataboutateakettle/pseuds/whataboutateakettle
Summary: Fred knows how this works, // post-finale coda.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written to try and cope with how much I want a series two.

He’s walking down the hall, back to his bedroom, definitely not going to look for Sam.

Sam, who left his mug in Fred’s hands and Fred on the couch nearly twenty minutes ago. Sam, who kissed him in the hospital, who stayed with him all night, who paid for the ride home.

Sam, who keeps smiling at him. Sam, who keeps his distance.

Fred knows how this works. He’s been through it. He knows lots of people who have. And he’s not even really sure whether Sam is even coming out. Or whether he just kissed a boy and he liked it and now they’re just supposed to pretend it never happened.

Sam’s _shh_ on the couch echoes in his head. The closet is kind of like this hospital, it’s awful and it’s painful and it’s humiliating. But after enough time it feels like home. So much so that you forget there’s any other way to live.

So he’s going to his bedroom; he needs to pack if they’re all going to be moving out tomorrow. And he’s going to give Sam some space to figure out how he really feels.

He gets to his door at the end of the corridor and reaches to twist the doorknob when suddenly the door opens back of its own accord.

Or not. Because Sam is standing there, in his blue t-shirt that looks really good on him, and his hair isn’t gelled up at all. Fred’s breath hitches, which is ridiculous because he literally just saw Sam.

“Finally! _God_ , I’ve been waiting ages,” Sam huffs, and pulls him inside the room by his arm, slamming the door harshly behind him.

“Sorry. I didn’t know if you wanted to be alone or...” Fred trails off slowly, watching carefully as Sam keeps his hand on his arm. Sam’s other hand moves up, lands on Fred’s shoulder. Sam looks up at him and Fred forgets sometimes that he’s actually taller, just a bit, because Sam always seems so big, so loud, so _much_.

“Yeah, I did. But you don’t count, _babe,_ ” Sam whispers, but the babe still pops somehow, and before he knows it Sam’s lips are on his, pushing his back into the closed door.

If last night’s kiss was soft and shy and sideways, this one is hard and frenzied and driving him straight towards the edge, going way over the speed limit.

Sam bites at his lower lip and Fred moans, parts his mouth and Sam shoves his tongue in. He tastes like coffee and Fred forgets about metaphors.

Sam’s hands have moved, are moving. One moves up to Fred’s neck, rounds back, fingers grabbing at his hair. The other dropped down to Fred’s waist, fingers gripping tightly at his body, like he refuses to let Fred go.

Fred’s hands are splayed across Sam’s lower back, frozen in place, scared to move too much. Because why? Because –

Sam pulls his head back, as suddenly as he’d moved in. His eyes are wide, darting all over Fred’s face.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” he exhales, a smile playing on his lips, “If I’d known it was gonna be this good I would have done this ages ago.”

Okay, so Sam kissed a boy and he really liked it.

“Well,” Fred starts, and only then does he realise how out of breath he also is, “I did try.”

 Sam stares at him, and then Fred grins a little and Sam grins back and soon they’re both laughing, arms still wound around each other.

Sam’s distracted, all soft edges and relaxed eyes, and they’re still laughing when Fred uses this moment, dips his head and kisses him again. 

Sam kisses like he has something to prove; he licks his way into Fred’s mouth again, presses both their bodies against the door so hard that Fred’s pretty sure he can feel the door handle in his kidney.

So he finally moves a hand, unsticks it from Sam lower back and reaches up to cup his cheek instead, uses the leverage to step them both away from the door, mouths still connected, and towards his bed.

“Trying to get me into your bed, are you?” Sam smirks, mouth barely off his. Fred has a moment of worry, a moment of recognition that this is new for Sam. But then the hand on Fred’s waist moves, snakes its way under his t-shirt, Sam’s soft fingers tracing lines into his bare skin. Sam doesn’t deal in subtlety; if he was uncomfortable, Fred would know.

Sam’s leg touches the side of the bed, and he surprises both of them by turning them around and pushing Fred down onto his back.  He lands with a thud, looks up just in time to see Sam gaze down at him with dark eyes. He climbs onto the bed, straddles Fred’s hips before leaning down to press their lips together again.

Fred slips his hands under Sam’s shirt, runs his fingers over his ribs, across his warm, soft skin. God, when he developed this weird, unrequited crush on a straight, melodramatic asshole, he really didn’t think this was how it was going to end. Not that he minds.

Sam grinds his hips down onto his.

He _really_ doesn’t mind.

Sam lifts his head a little, looks him in the eye with a smirk. “I’ve never given a guy a hard on before.” He says, and Fred thinks _that’s definitely not true_. “Not on purpose,” Sam adds thoughtfully.

Fred shakes his head, laughs silently before pulling Sam’s head back down.

* * *

Sam is surprisingly quiet, all slightly quirked lips and warm eyes and he’s running his fingers over Fred’s chest with a patient tenderness Fred didn’t even know he had in him.

And it’s making Fred nervous.

“You don’t have to be gay, you know,” the words pour out of his mouth before he has time to properly vet them.

Maybe it’s weird to say that now, when they’re both lying on Fred’s bed in only their underwear. When Sam’s just given him an overeager, if slightly toothy but still definitely good blowjob, and then he came over Fred’s hand. But it’s true, technically.

Sam tilts his head up. “What?”

“I mean. You can still like girls. You can be bisexual. Or even pansexual. In case you were worried. About that.”

Sam smiles warmly; in a way that Fred is pretty sure is meant to be mocking him. “Well, uh, thanks for the info, babe. There’s no deadline, is there?”

Now it’s Fred’s turn. “What?”

“For my application,” Sam clarifies, pushing himself up onto his elbow, “to join Gays-R-Us. I can figure it out later, right?”

Fred stares for a moment before the joke properly washes over him, and by then it’s too late. So he just nods. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good, because I’d planned to keep myself busy today,” Sam replies, and leans over him, taunting him with his swollen lips.

Fred cranes his neck up and kisses him, pulls him down, unwilling to waste any more time. Everything else, they can figure out later.


End file.
